Yesterday was our first day at the hospital we’ll be
ministering at all month. Before arriving we were told we’d be working with cerebral
palsy patients and simply hanging out/ loving on them; we didn’t know exactly
what that would look like but we were ready to jump in.
We arrived at the hospital and were split up into a few
different groups; we were all led to different wings to work with eldery,
children, and middle-aged men and women, all with some sort of disability or
special need.
Pause here for a moment while I give you some background on
Jenny Sue. Something I’ve discovered on the race (and had an inkling of
beforehand as well) is that I will never be a nurse (well, unless God
miraculously gives me a passion and gifting in that area… I should never say “neverâ€� – thanks Justin Bieber). 🙂 But in all honesty, hospitals freak me out. Even
vet hospitals. In high school I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian, so I decided
to do an internship at an animal hospital to see what it was like. Well, I quickly
realized that wasn’t my calling when I had to leave halfway through my first
day there because I started feeling so nauseous that I actually had to step
outside and throw up. Gross, I know (sorry about that… I’m just trying to give
you an accurate picture here.) There’s just something about all the blood,
incisions, sharp medical tools, smell, and overall sickness that does me in. I
had a similar experience when I was sick in Tanzania and had to go to the hospital.
It turns out I had malaria, an amoeba, and a UTI all at the same time (which I’m
sure didn’t make it any better), but when I went to get my blood drawn I got super
nauseous, turned as white as a sheet, almost passed out, had to put my head
down between my legs, and still ended up throwing up about five times after
they finished. Yea, it was bad. Those are just a few of the many stories I could
share about my love for medical facilities, but I’ll spare you the rest of the
details.
So long story short, hospitals make me queasy. I always
think I can handle it and “tough it out,� but more often than not I end up
leaving feeling like a little kid after a long and bumpy road trip. I knew this
month would entail hospital ministry so I had been praying and somewhat attempting
to prepare myself for anything. It’s always good when we have to rely on the Lord’s strength instead of our own; after all, He is made strong in our weakness. 🙂
Ok, back to the story. So I’m walking down the halls of this
hospital and feeling pretty good; I can’t see any blood, syringes, or missing
limbs… so all is well. The nurse in charge directs a few of us into a room with
about seven hospital beds filled with women who look like they’re in their late
twenties or early thirties; they’re simply laying down, hardly moving, and staring
blankly at the ceiling. The nurse tells us they’ll be bottle feeding them soon
so we can help with that, but other than that we can simply talk to them; then
she leaves.
I look over to the last bed in the room and see one of the
women flailing her body, writhing around, and yelling/ crying intermittently; I
look closer and see that she her legs are actually tied together with cloth and
her arms are tied to the bed – most likely to keep her from hurting herself during
these fits. My heart breaks. I just want to fix it all, but quickly begin
feeling overwhelmed and helpless with the situation I now find myself. I don’t
know what to do. We have just been dropped off in a room with women we’ve never
met, who are barely coherent, the majority of them cannot talk, and the one who
can only speaks fragmented Spanish. We’re supposed to be here for the next two
and a half hours.
Something else to know about me: I feel totally inept with
people with mental disabilities. I feel horrible even typing that out, but it’s
true. I love them as Jesus loves them, but sometimes I just feel helpless. I
love being able to just sit down and talk with people, and when I can’t do that
I guess I just don’t know what to do.
So as I’m standing there in that room, minorly panicking
inside, I begin to pray for the Lord to direct me to one of the women to talk
to. I am almost instantly drawn to a woman in the middle of a line of beds who
has a huge smile on her face; I start walking over to her bed as she eyes me
with a smile. “Hola!� I say, “Como te llamas?� I soon find out that she is
non-verbal and very low-functioning… but she is beautiful and I believe she is
able to understand. There are Disney princesses on the wall and a few other construction
paper cut-outs as decorations; my eyes scan the room until they fall on a place
directly above her bed where I can see the name “Lupita� written out in sparkly
letters. “Lupita,� I say, with a hint of question in my tone, hoping this is
actually her name. She instantly begins to smile and I know she understands.
The new discovery of her understanding is elating; I can talk
to her and know she comprehends… regardless of if she can communicate back with
me or not. Sweet! So I start introducing myself, telling her my name, where I’m
from, what we’re doing in Guatemala, and all about the World Race. I then
naturally feel an inkling to tell her about the love of Christ (since that’s
something I love to do!) so I begin; I
tell her she’s beautiful, that Jesus loves her so much, and that she is a
daughter of God. I repeat all of this a few times just to make sure she
understands, and every time I tell her about her identity in Christ and the
love He has for his daughter her face
simply LIGHTS up and she begins squealing with delight. It was one
of the most beautiful things I’ve witnessed. It was as if she already knew all
of this, that she has been claimed and marked as Christ’s own, but the reminder
of such knowledge was “too wonderful for her, too lofty to attain� (Psalm
139:6).
I instantly became overwhelmed with the Lord’s love for
Lupita (it was an upwelling, a burst of the Spirit, a burst of love, whatever
you want to call it) and again the Father’s love began to pour out of me. I was
overwhelmed with the realization that she knows who she is in Him and that it
literally causes her to enter a state of ecstasy: she gets wide-eyed, giggles
and squeals with pure elation, and creates one of the brightest, most beautiful
smiles I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but mirror that same smile back to her – my
heart is full.
As I continue telling her about the Lord’s love and His
thoughts about her I begin to cry. She is a beautiful daughter of God and she
knows it… really knows it. The knowledge actually causes bottomless pools of
joy to well up inside and explode out in delight. I am the one telling her
about Christ’s love, but she seems to understand it better than I even do
myself.
Through tears and the palpable weight of the Spirit’s
presence I continue speaking truth, singing to her, and praying over her. My
eyes are fixed and I can’t wipe this smile off my face.
I sit with Lupita for the rest of our time and simply love
on her in whatever way I can; I rub her arm, talk to her, sing and pray over
her, make funny faces and sounds, snort with her (yea, she can snort too! So
fun!), and just continue making her laugh and smile. Towards the end of the day
I was able to feed her dinner and we had a good time; she needed some
encouragement to continue eating so I kept telling her she was doing a good job
and even airplaned a few spoonfulls to make it more exciting. We were actually
having so much fun that I couldn’t look at her while she ate or she would start
smiling and laughing and would never chew or swallow her food; so I had to
focus my eyes downward on cutting the meal into small enough pieces instead. She
was precious and I couldn’t help but smile whenever I looked at her. Honestly,
there was so much joy flowing through her body that I felt like she was
continually filled with the Holy Spirit and its fruits were simply flowing out –
it was incredible. I fed her coffee from a bottle (that was a first!) right
before we left and then we were on our way. I said my goodbyes and told her
once again that Jesus loves her and that I’d be back soon. She returned another
elated smile as I waved and walked out the door.
God is so good. Who
knew He could orchestrate such a beautiful afternoon and the start of a wonderful
friendship in the midst of such a ‘precarious’ facility and initial feelings of
dread. I guess I should never be surprised at how great our God is, yet regardless I continue to stand in awe and wonder. He truly knows what we
need before we even ask and can use us in ways we never thought possible when
we simply step out in faith. I don’t know who was blessed more that afternoon,
Lupita or myself, but I am sure glad I decided to rely on the Lord’s strength instead
of my own and not miss out on the beauty He’s able to create in the most
unlikely circumstances. Praise the Lord!
“You hem me in – behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too
lofty for me to attain… For you created my inmost being; you knit me
together in my mother’s womb. I praise
you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I
know that full well… How precious to me
are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count
them, they would outnumber the grains of sand� (Psalm
139:5-6, 13-14, and 17-18).
